


Dog Days

by lyrenotliar



Category: League of Legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:47:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29353686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrenotliar/pseuds/lyrenotliar
Summary: Jhin is back in prison, and Leblanc needs a new pet.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Dog Days

The humidity around Tuula is worse near its south-east. Closer to the coast, near the mouth of a river that fades into the ocean. The water in the air sticks to the skin, blending with sweat and the summer monsoon rains. But it is even worse on the inside of its prison.

Winding hallways and stone walls of one of Ionia’s only human-built structures; something truly made by man itself rather than the land. While many Ionian’s would call its size and build imposing, anyone from anywhere else would tell you for a maximum-security prison, the size seemed much too small. The wood and stone often sit damp and warm, trapping in the heat worse than it feels outside, and the small size makes it feel something of an oven. Cooking you alive.

Leblanc is no stranger to the blaring heat, humid or dry, nor the bite of winter’s cold. Her travels across Runeterra have brought her far and wide, to the searing sands of Shurima and the bitter cold of the Freljord and then beyond to the dead air of the Shadow Isles. A dingy Ionian prison covered in mold in a humid climate is far from the worst she’s seen.

She places a hand on the cobblestone wall as she walks the stretching corridor; slightly warm, and her fingertips seem to stick to the surface just a touch when he pulls her hand away. Disgusting. The click of her heels alerts absent-minded guards of her arrival before she’s even in conversation range, the steady tap of fine Noxian shoe-work against decaying Ionian wood and stone.

“State your business,” one asks, before she’s even stopped walking ahead of them.

“Must I?” She pouts her lips. “Your other coworkers already let me get this far. I wouldn’t even be in here if I weren’t allowed.”

The other guard, taller and broader, frowns. He leans himself down as he speaks, trying to get a better look under her hood. “You’re at the door of our highest security prisoner-”

“Your only prisoner. Where else would I go? To visit the warden of a one-man prison? Tch.” She laughs.

When one of them opens their mouths to speak again, she sighs, and with a wave of her hand, they fall to the floor, bodies colliding against each other and landing with one loud dull thud. Their eyes are open, wide and scared, scanning around the, while their bodies lay limp with forced shut mouths. Leblanc smiles.

Reaching down, she grabs a set of keys off the belt of one of the guards; a heavy steel ring with enough keys to lock down an entire city.  
“I’ll be seeing you, boys.” She waves, her smiling widening, and disappears in a puff of smoke, taking the keyring with her.

Behind the door, she reappears as if no one had even entered, a small puff of smoke and the jingling of the keys in her hand. The room is dark, with no lighted torches and barely any light, save for the small window beyond the bars of the cell itself that casts a small amount of evening light down into the room.

She snaps, lighting the torches on the walls beside her. The cell might’ve been dingy, but it wasn’t cramped, though it was surely uncomfortable. A room made of pure stone, held up by splintering wooden pillars, separated in twos by rusted steel bars that smelled absolutely vile. A crumbling disaster.

Leblanc picks up a torch from the wall, stepping towards the bars in the centre of the room, the loud of echo of her heels and the small crackle of the fire against the wood of the torch is the only noise in the room; no spoken words, not even the sound of breathing or the shuffling of fabric.

The light of the fire illuminates the room in warm yellows and oranges, bouncing off the metal and stone and onto the leather of Leblanc’s heels, the silk of her cloak, the bronze of her brooch, the pale of her skin- but she is not the only person in the room.

She waves the torch forward, sticking it in front of her and towards the bars. Then, and only then, does she see exactly who she’s looking for.

Khada Jhin; _the Ionian myth himself_.

The light makes him look more alive than Leblanc would have thought, skin she can tell was once much more tan, has been tinted somewhat grey- and the bags under his eyes certainly don’t help. If he didn’t blink- or maybe if not for the sweat dripping off his skin- she might’ve thought he was a corpse or some sort of statue; all bones and skin with the veins popping through.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Leblanc chuckles as she clicks her tongue, leaning down with one hand on her knees towards the bars- as a mother would speak to a child. “Look how far you’ve fallen, golden demon. Trapped like an animal in a cage so close after being set free. I thought captivity didn’t suit predators like you…”

Jhin looks up at her through his eyebrows, hunched over his knees, unmoving and unspeaking.

“Don’t want to talk? Funny, considering what I know about you.” She sighs. “You see, Jhin, I didn’t come here just to make small talk. No, I have a plan for you; one I think you’ll oh-so deliciously enjoy. And that, of course, starts with getting you free. But first-”

Leblanc leans in a touch further, pulling back the hood of her cloak with her free hand before grasping one of the cell’s bars. 

“I need you to agree to my terms.”

She smiles when Jhin moves, sitting up slowly to put his weight on his knees, the chain that binds him grinding on the floor and clanking against itself.

“What is it that you want?”

He can be seen now, more fully. Shirtless and scrawny, starved to the bone with his eyes and cheeks sunken in, wearing nothing but ragged slacks. Long greying hair and terribly shaven stubble. He looks utterly disgusting; like a man at the end of his rope.

 _Perfect_.

“I knew you’d be open to listening. And that doesn’t go unrewarded.” Leblanc uses her free hand to open a bag attached to the belt at her hip. She takes out an apple, beautifully red and reflective in the torchlight. She tosses it into the cell, where it lands on the ground with a barely audible thump. “Have a treat.”

With tentative hands, Jhin picks up the apple, staring into the now bruised skin, before looking over to the woman who threw it. 

“You’re treating me like a fucking dog.”

“That’s because you are one, puppet. Or rather, you will be, once you agree to my terms. But isn’t being a dog better than being in a zoo?” She chuckles with a tone that reeks of something disgustingly condescending. “I’ve always wanted to tame a wild animal. Besides, you can think of it as a… show of companionship. And a show of more rewards to come if you listen up, not just your release from your little cage. What say you, hm? Still care to listen?”

Jhin nods with a sigh. “Speak, then.” He bites a chunk out of his apple.

“See, Khada, I’m in the business of finding the best of the best; and word around Runeterra is that you’re awfully good at what you do. Complete with a show of theatrics involved. See, I need someone who’s good at setting examples, and equally good at taking out targets. I think that suits you quite well, wouldn’t you?”

By now, the apple is mostly gone, completely devoured within a few moments of it being given. Jhin nods, mouth full as he wipes juice off of his chin. 

Leblanc hums. “Still on board are we? Very good, my little pet. Now here’s where we get into the fun of it.” She takes out another piece of fruit from her pack, a small tangerine with the skin still on, and reaches her hand through the bars. “You’ll be working for me, and only me. No other clients, no other contracts, just my will and want. There will be no going out of your way to make a show, you can make a piece of who I tell you too. Understand?”

Jhin reaches his hand towards hers, ready to grab the fruit in her hand before she tears her hand back, long nails digging into the skin of the tangerine, piercing the fruit inside and coating her hand in juice.

“I see you’ll need a lot more training than I expected. I expected a dog down on his luck, not a feral beast.” She scoffs. “I asked you if you understood. Answer”

He frowns. “Yes, I do.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Leblanc lets go of the fruit, letting it land with a small splat on the floor. She stands tall, looking down at Jhin with pure disgust. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“I have an idea,” Jhin says before picking up the tangerine from the floor and peeling the rind off around the indents of Leblanc’s nails. “Guessing from the emblem of your brooch, you’re a Black Rose operative. Though if I had to guess I’d say you’re the pale woman herself. If I’m honest, I expected white hair.”

Leblanc laughs before her smile turns into a frown.

“Right you are my dear, in your own way. So as you know, I work for Noxus.” She grabs the keyring from her finger around the torch, jingling it in front of the cell. “And your price of freedom is working for us.”

“You’d have me betray my own country?” Jhin chuckles.

“Of course. I’ve heard you’re not necessarily one to care about political sides. I thought it might be a good deal for you. Unless, of course, you suddenly care about who wins this war.”

He shrugs. “Your nation is brash, but mine is behind. Either is a loss is my book.” He puts a piece of fruit in his mouth, talking through the food. “Besides, my intellect alone can not sway the side of Ionia far enough for it to win. On Noxus’ behalf, perhaps, but too many here are concerned with peace, while your people aren’t at all interested in the theatrics. Idiotic, if you ask me.” He swallows his fruit, tearing up the rind absentmindedly. 

“War is not about theatrics-”

“Who gives a damn about war? On the off chance Ionia wins; my nation stays the same as it always was, and continues its slow climb to catch up with the rest of the world. If Noxus wins, Ionia gets flung into a brief industrial revolution, but you’ll treat us all like dogs as you do with every other nation you capture. I don’t care about war, I care about the killing. And that, my dear, is an art.”

“See this is the type of man I was told I’d find. Someone with a bit of a backbone. Not a wild dog.” She leans back down, keys shining in the light and clinking against each other. “So are you ready to accept my deal?”

He leans back on his hands. “Tell me more about what I’ll be doing and maybe we can negotiate.”

Leblanc snorts. “Negotiate? My you are bold. I do not ‘negotiate’, Khada.”

“You will because you want my help.”

She rolls her eyes, sighing, pushing the torch between the bars of the cell. It further illuminates Jhin, brings more warmth to his skin with the dance of the flame. The cell, now lit, is worse than Leblanc had originally imagined. A small palette on the floor of rotting hay and wood and a bucket in the corner. No wonder it smelled disgusting in here…

“You, my pet, will be whisked away from Ionia, she uses her index and middle fingers to walk across the steel of the bars, perfectly manicured nails scratching and tapping on the rusting surface. “All the way to Noxus. I will take you, we will ride by boat, and we will make you a nice new little home in one of our headquarters. From there, we’ll clean you up, fit you in, and then we can send you on your merry way back to Ionia to do our bidding. Of course, not after some briefings but that’s all part of ‘fitting you in’ wouldn’t you say?”  
“So, what’s the catch?” Jhin stares at her through the torch shoved towards his face. The heat from it was already starting to make the room unbearable, but it was worse when it was shoved into the cell itself.

“Nothing too horrendous, I assure you. But that will reveal itself when the time comes.” She shakes the keys. “The quicker we can agree to this, the better. So what’ll it be?”

There is an odd tension that fills the room, then. Of a man and a woman both too stubborn to be the first to give in. The room is hot, and smells like sweat and piss, and both of them would rather this whole ordeal be over, yet neither is willing to budge. 

Leblanc frowns, a single droplet of sweat going down her forehead.

“Speak.”

Jhin stands, wiping the dirt off of his pants, though it seems more like he’s just spreading it around. “Fine. I’ll play your game.”

“Perfect! Your first task, my dear little pet, is to get out of here. I can’t be holding your hand the whole time, you know? But I’ll find you when you get out.”

Standing tall, she smirks, cocking her head to the side as Jhin moves as close as he can to the bars, the chain binding him to the back wall pulling taught.

“Now, _go fetch_.” Leblanc throws the keys into the cell, laughing the whole while. The keys scrape across the stone floor, stopping when they hit his feet.

Jhin opens his mouth to speak, but before any words can get out, she’s gone, disappeared in a flashing puff of smoke. The torch she was holding loses its flame, clattering to the floor, the wood splintering and cracking down the middle.

He bends down, picking the keys up from their place on the floor. In the back of his mind he swears he can still hear her voice; light and airy, chuckling and laced with a patronizing tone.

 _Good boy_.


End file.
